


Great Passion

by Skullszeyes



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Attempted Murder, Blood, Blood and Gore, Canon-Typical Violence, Cigarettes, Enemies, Gen, Izaya Being Izaya (Durarara!!), Minor Heiwajima Shizuo/Orihara Izaya, Minor Injuries, Minor Violence, Murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2020-10-06 04:56:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20501255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skullszeyes/pseuds/Skullszeyes
Summary: Shizuo fought a group of people who came after him, and met a man who orchestrated it.





	Great Passion

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure why I wrote this. It popped in my head, and I've been having a terrible few days, so I wanted to write something. And I didn't know it was going to be a recreation of how they met, just years later instead of at school. LOL. There's not much romance, and it's small if this fic ever expanded, and maybe I'll do that, but when I figure out a plot. Idk, tbh. 
> 
> Anyways, I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Comments and/or Kudo's are appreciative.

“There’s a spoken rule,” the man said, a smirk on his lips, “where if there’s this many people who are trying to kill you,” he waved his knife that glinted in the low light at several bodies lying motionless on the cement between them, “you should be dead already.”

Shizuo sparked up a cigarette, the last one in his pack, the rest were destroyed in the fight he had just went through. “Yeah well,” he began, glaring at the last man who didn’t seem perturbed by the death that surrounded them both, “they suck at killing.”

“Everyone here could’ve killed an ordinary man,” he continued, “they could’ve done it with absolute ease, they live off the imbalance of the innocent, and the ones who suffer in the dark with their guilt.”

“Some don’t live with guilt.”

The man stood upon several crates, waving his knife around, “True. Some are steeped in the chaos that they were born in, becoming stagnant, and useless.”

Where was this going exactly? Why did it matter if everyone here was dead, if they lived in their own darkness, in their own stink, that death was the only thing that could take them, while life itself would rather let them fade with the mass. 

“Are you the same?” Shizuo asked.

The man chuckled, his arm falling to his side, his grip loose on his blade. “Oh, I think I can kill you a lot more efficiently than these ones.”

Shizuo scoffed, “Maybe it’s because they’re dead.”

“And maybe I was standing and watching the way you tossed them into the air, and broke them a part without a single sign of resistance.” He seemed a little disgusted, as if something was in his mouth he wished to spit onto the cement. “You really are a monster, and I never thought I would come upon another like you.”

Shizuo narrowed his eyes at him. What did that mean? “Are you saying you’re exactly the same?” 

The man went still, his facial features barely visible. “Don’t compare me to you, monster.” 

The man was quick as he jumped from the crates, gripping his blade as he plunged it down, but when Shizuo moved back, surprised by the swiftness of his movements, the man repositioned himself, the blade cutting through the air where Shizuo stood a second ago, losing his cigarette as it fell from his lips.

For someone so small and weak looking, he was relentless with the knife. Unlike the men at their feet with the pools of their blood, and their forgotten weapons, he didn’t use a gun, he didn’t need too. 

There was something dangerous about him. Shizuo couldn’t pinpoint what it was as he dodged out of the way before grasping a metal pole, and tugging it from the cement. The ground reverberated under their feet at the strain below them, that the man stepped back, and Shizuo heard the snarl leaving his throat. 

If anyone was a monster in this place, it looked more like it was this guy. The darkness and scattered bodies suited him more than it suited Shizuo, even though he was the one who had created those puddles of thick blood. 

Shizuo torn the metal bar apart, gripping it tightly, making sure not to bend it wrong as he swung it toward the man who ducked out of the way, backing up. His knife won’t be able to protect him, unless…

Shizuo grunted when he felt the first taste of pain on his bicep. He looked to see his white shirt was torn, blood seeping through from the cut. Looks like he did think of throwing his knife.

“Having fun?” the man asked.

“I would say yes if I knew your damned name,” Shizuo swung the metal bar, and it skidded through a body, spilling blood into the air that stained the grey metal wall behind the red eyed man, “but I don’t think it’ll matter after I kill you.”

“Izaya,” he said, jumping out of the way, gripping the handle of another knife. “I’m Orihara Izaya, and you are? Oh wait—” Izaya scrambled toward the crates, and jumped to the side as Shizuo threw the bar, smashing the crates to splintering pieces, and Shizuo watched as Izaya landed and melting into the darkness, “I already know who you are.”

“And I don’t care.”

Izaya chuckled, “I’ve been looking for you.” 

Why? Shizuo thought. Why look for him? What was the point, unless there was more to this than what Shizuo would’ve thought it was. 

“When I found you,” Izaya said, coming out of the shadows the moment Shizuo stepped back, but the end of Izaya’s knife slashed his white shirt and splitting his skin open, “I needed to know what you were, and what I can do with you.”

Shizuo shuddered, placing a hand against the wound. Shock rippled through him. The moment this group of men appeared, he didn’t know why they were here, how they found him, and why it mattered. Not until this man was the last one standing, who mocked him and the ones that were dead at Shizuo’s feet.

The realization was cold and hot rushing through him as he stared at Izaya who did nothing but smirk, a sinister look plastered on his pale face. 

“You brought them here, you wanted me to kill them.”

“I wanted to play,” Izaya said, kicking a dead body to his side, snickering at the blood splashing on his shoe. “I wanted to see what you could do,” he raised his eyes and chuckled at Shizuo, “and you didn’t disappoint, Shizu-chan.”

“At what cost?” Shizuo asked, feeling the anger rising up inside of him, the disbelief that came in waves, “at what cost...did you hope to bring these people?”

Izaya snorted, noticing the cigarette lying an inch beside splattered blood. He reached down and plucked it between his fingers. “These people were as evil as we are. They would’ve killed and hurt many others if you hadn’t done it before they could rot in prison.” He waved his knife again, shrugging his shoulders, and placing the cigarette to his lips, taking a drag, “Or they would’ve stayed on the street, living out their days until death catches up with them. At least you made it quick at ending their lives.”

“And what about this?” Shizuo asked him, “you showing yourself after what I did? Am I being condemned for something?”

“Condemned?” Izaya asked, truly confused by the question. “Don’t think of yourself so high, Shizu-chan. What you did was the manifestation of a monster brought to life. You fed on the night around us, and like monsters, you killed other people.”

“What you said, they weren’t innocent.”

Izaya smirked, “No one’s innocent, Shizu-chan. We’re all capable of great evil. We’ve been stained by it the moment we were conceived, and whatever blessing others think they can give us, it won’t ever be enough for the actions, thoughts, feelings, and the words we display for the world, and for the lives we live. It’s quite pitiful, but as humans, we must thrive on the incomplete.” He chuckled, his red eyes brandishing something cold as he stared at Shizuo. “As monsters, on the other hand, we claw our way to completion, we’ll never have it, and we’ll suffocate because of it.”

Shizuo wasn’t sure what this man was talking about. “You’re pissing me off…”

Izaya shrugged, flicking the cigarette to the side and watching as it went out in a pool of blood, “And you’re amusing me to no end, Shizu-chan. I was thinking of killing you here along with many of your hapless victims, but I think I’d rather keep you around, maybe have you as a pet, and one day when I come to truly love you—” 

Shizuo glared at him as Izaya stepped back, he folded his blade into the handle, and placed it inside his sweater. And like all monsters, Shizuo watched Izaya melt into the shadows, his smirk wide and threatening.

“I’ll kill you, and I’ll have great passion for that coming day.”


End file.
